


Do It Yourself

by barghest



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: DIY, Fluff, Gen, IKEA, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, cute old men being not as old, man stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barghest/pseuds/barghest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Morrison, DIY extraordinaire. Gabriel Reyes, absolutely does not have a crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do It Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> this is very fluff and shorthand written deliberately to get the flow across quickly  
> dont think theyre very ic but lbr mr all american jack morrison totally would be That Kind Of Dad (u kno it)
> 
> dedicated to the HUMMY bc its Stress Relief 4 Her

"I used to build stuff when I was a kid," Jack Morrison holds up a measuring tape to the wall of Gabriel's room. "Made a couple of tables, chairs. Bird house this one time. My school was one of the last still teaching woodwork." He makes small marks on the wall with a squat laser pencil, before tucking it back behind his ear.

Gabriel leans on the doorway to watch. "That's all very nice, Jack," he scratches at his beard a little, "but I didn't ask for a set of shelves."

Jack makes them anyway.

\--

"It will brighten up her room, don't you think?," Jack steps back from the plans, quietly smug, to allow his colleagues to look. "I heard her favourite colour's yellow, so I figured maybe a sort of Easter-y shade on top, and white for the rest." The blueprints glow a little on the table top - a small console table of his own design, he had announced before showing the plans off.

"Does Angela actually want a table?," Ana's arms are crossed, but she's sensitive enough to keep any malice out of her voice.

Gabriel nods, "my thoughts exactly."

"I figured we could make it a surprise."

"Jack--"

"It'll be nice! A welcoming gift," Jack smiles, seemingly convinced that will win them over. "She's coming all the way from Switzerland to work with us, don't you think it'll be nice if we make her feel at home?"

Ana tilts her head to one side in thought, "I see your point. The colour, though."

"Yes?"

"I'd suggest something else. Honestly I believe she would like eggshell blue better. Trust me on that one, Jack." Gabriel sighs.

\--

The red numbers of Gabriel's alarm clock flicker in the dark. 3:45AM in the morning. He pulls the covers around himself tighter, up over his shoulders until it touches his ears. Fifteen more minutes, he can tell himself, then he'll get up and go for a run. Just fifteen.

There's a thump at the other side of the bed.

Gabriel shoots upright, hand already on his sidearm, pointing into the shadows. He squints, then sags - just a book, falling off the shelf. Jack's shelf. He reaches up to put the book back on, only for it to slide back off again. Gabriel lies back down and rolls over, tossing the book onto the floor. Stupid shelf.

\--

He has to admit, it's enjoyable watching Jack so enthusiastically hack away at wood with a handsaw, tongue poking out between his teeth when he draws out lines on the planks. Jack is just having a lot of fun, it's a pleasant thing to behold.  
Gabriel leans on the door frame, waiting for Jack to notice his presence before broaching the subject of the shelf.

Unfortunately, it's Ana who notices him first. "One of these days," she says airily as she walks past, "he's going to notice you are staring all too often at his muscles."

Gabriel splutters in protest, but she is gone, off round the next corner with a smile on her lips. He huffs, expression dark when Jack finally catches on to him shuffling impatiently at the door. Jack raises his brows.

"Something the matter?," he smiles, amused. Gabriel makes a point of staring at just his eyes.

\--

"I did say I wasn't done, I didn't have the right nails yet," Jack places an archaic spirit level on the shelf, scrutinizing the little vial of green liquid in the middle. The shelf has been cleared for him to work, books spilling onto Gabriel's bed. "You could've hurt yourself."

"I nearly did," Gabriel can only grumble a little bit. Almost reproachful at the news that this is his fault really. "One of the books damn near smacked me in the face."  
"I'll fix it today," there he goes again, with that small smile. It's different from the one Jack gives the media - that's more of a proud grin, white teeth peeking past his lips, eyes crinkled up against flashbulbs on cameras. No teeth here, but Gabriel likes it more, if he's honest.

It takes Jack half an hour to fix the shelving - he stands back to review his build, chest puffed out a little.

"Do you want another one?"

"No," says Gabriel, rather quickly.

\--

He finds Jack sat in front of a crumpled pile of wood, frowning. Gabriel would laugh, but that would be mean - he snorts instead.

"Think the wood's too weak," is Jack's response.

Gabriel relents, just a little. "Come on, there's enough time to go to Ikea before she arrives, if you're so hellbent on her having a table."

"No," Jack frowns at the wood more.

"Everything else here is Ikea, she won't mind," Gabriel moves closer to inspect the debris. "You can even paint it special." This doesn't seem to cheer Jack up. "I'll paint it with you," he offers awkwardly, unsure if a paint brush would fit into his fingers.

At last, Jack seems to perk up, "we'll go by Torbjorn, he'll be able to advise me on what wood's better. That's so great you're willing to help me, Gabriel, I appreciate it." Gabriel sighs.

\--

Gabriel sighs the whole way round the building warehouse, which is conveniently attached to the nearest Ikea. He sighs a little less when they stop for lunch, just him and Jack, at the little café also attached to the Ikea.

"The meatballs are pretty good," Jack wiggles his meatball-laden fork in Gabriel's direction. "Try one."

That night, Gabriel takes one of Torbjorn's screw drivers. From the shelf, he removes two screws and throws them onto the floor.

\--

Jack is nonplussed.

"I'm sure I used the right screws," he has to kneel on Gabriel's bed to get to the shelf, hands on his hips as he surveys the damage that had apparently sprung up overnight.

Gabriel stands behind him, arms crossed, "maybe you were wrong again. Did you talk to Torbjorn?"

"Yeah. Hm," Jack's brow gains several wrinkles when he frowns. They pinch in between his eyebrows. His crow's feet are growing, in a way that makes him look more like a soft grandpa by the day. Gabriel has to force himself to look away.

Bed springs creak, and Jack gets off the mattress, "I'll fix it today, don't worry."

"Oh, I'm not," Gabriel still has to look at the floor.

\--

3:4AM again. Gabriel stares up at the shelf, now secure, over his head. Maybe he could do with a second one, after all.

\--

Angela loves the table. She's delighted by it, to be honest - her soft Swiss accent lilting as she tells them how she's made it her desk by her window. The eggshell blue looks lovely, she tells them, and she loves the little pink and yellow flowers that dot the edges.

"Gabriel's idea," Jack beams. Gabriel nearly elbows in the ribs, instead tries not to be too gruff when Angela shakes his hand in gratitude.

"I'm glad you like them," is all he can muster himself to say. Jack is still smiling at him - has Jack always glowed when he's smiled? He isn't sure.

"You have done a lovely job," Angela is gentle. She has doctor's hands, steady and soft as she shakes his. "Thank you. Thank you both, ever so much."

\--

He offers to help Jack with the shelves this time. They measure out a space on another of his walls to place two more.

"What're you going to put here?," Jack asks as they work. He tucks a bit of golden hair behind his ear, and it flicks forward almost immediately again.

Gabriel shrugs a little, "no sure. Maybe just…mementos. or something." Jack's hand brushes his as they pass tools between them, sitting cross legged on the floor of Gabriel's room. Jack's lips are curled up as he works. They are soft to look at, in contrast to his hands, which are rough and strong. A hard kind of beauty, that reminded him of being in the wilderness. Jack's hand were like the protective boundaries of a nature reserve, comforting in their firmness. 

Gabriel stares very hard at the plank of wood in front of him.

\--

"I saw you staring at his behind during training," Ana omits swearing when around her daughter, who is currently showing Angela her collection of action figures on the other side of the room.

"This one is Cleo," Fareeha holds up a well-loved doll dressed in army fatigues, "she's a tank captain."

Gabriel lowers his voice to a whisper, "shut up."

\--

A misstep, and Gabriel accidentally whacks himself in the hand with the hammer. He hisses in irritation - then Jack's fingers close on his wrist, turning his hand over to inspect the damage, Jack is leaning over him and asking if he's alright, they can go to the infirmary, damn, Gabe, that sounded nasty. Jack drag him to his feet, and Gabriel has to admit he's dazed all the way down the corridor as Jack's arm keeps brushing against his. Jack fusses on him quietly as they wait for one of the nurses to attend to him, asking if it hurts.

"I'm fine, Jack, calm down," Gabriel can't help smiling, just a little.

"I am calm," Jack is a little puffed up all the same. There's relief in his eyes, indignation in his voice - how dare he be accused of worrying. His hand brushes Gabriel's shoulder, then holds on gently. "I am just concerned for you. Is that not allowed now?" Gabriel has to turn away, laughing quietly at the wall.

\--

The shelving is almost finished. Gabriel is fiddling with a framed photo. Familial faces smile back at him.

"I think I'm going to need another shelf," he is absent minded in his speech. Jack finishes nailing in a last section of the shelving. "Maybe a bookcase. What do you think?"

When he turns to look, Jack is smiling, eyes soft and playful. He's stood a little closer to Gabriel that he was a minute ago, fingers brushing the back of Gabriel's hand. "I think you need to stop making excuses to have me in your room," is his reply, "when all you have to do is ask."


End file.
